


I'll fetch you the moon, just ask

by madandimpossible, tinybluewitch (madandimpossible)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Almost Kiss, Attack of the Fanfic Tropes, Battle Couple, Calebs Love Language is Spells, Discord: Widojest Love, Each Chapter is a different Trope or AU or whatever, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Marriage Proposal, Pining Caleb Widogast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26316190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madandimpossible/pseuds/madandimpossible, https://archiveofourown.org/users/madandimpossible/pseuds/tinybluewitch
Summary: A saccharine, self-indulgent, selection of stories: see tags.OrA bunch of one-shots with different fanfiction tropes
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 50
Kudos: 164





	1. Almost Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Trope/Prompt: Almost Kiss  
> Triggers (if any): None 
> 
> “It’s about the yearning.” – me, literally every single day of my life.

If you’re very _lucky_ , you’ll meet someone who weaves their unique fabric into the tapestry of your life. In Jester’s case – first, it was the Traveler. He gave her hijinks and heists, laughter, and joy, the only one to _see_ her among the shadows and silks of the Lavish Chateau.

Then came the Mighty Nein.

Molly; his grin, his hunger for _life_ , the rhythmic shuffling of his tarot cards. His absence felt like a missing tooth, her tongue poking at the gap again and again until it eventually healed. Beau; her protective friendship, her laughter, the swirling trail of her cloak like an afterimage against the rain. Veth; her chaos, her bravery, the glint in her wide eyes before she hides something away in her pockets. Caduceus; his patience, his kindness, a cup of warm tea between your hands. Yasha; her flowers pressed into the pages of her book, her reserved nature – different from Caleb or Caduceus, her strength. Fjord; his desire to grow, his leadership, golden eyes that used to make butterflies appear in her stomach. Caleb; his vibrant magic, Frumpkin’s hair sticking to his coat, his sadness that clung to the edges of him.

Yes, Jester supposes, she’s very, very lucky.

And it feels good to appreciate them even more on a day like _today –_ because today –her friend is getting married.

Okay, okay, _technically_ – Veth and Yeza are already married. But a celebration is a celebration and this one is going to be pretty fucking cool. There were going to be lights, and flowers, and magic, and music, and food and it was going to be the best possible day ever for her best friend.

Jester would know. She practically planned the entire thing.

 _You’ve got quite the pep in your step today, Jester._ The Traveler’s voice crept into her consciousness and she outwardly beams at his whispering presence.

“You could come too, you know.” Jester offers, tacking yet another ribbon to the exposed wooden beam in the Lavish Chateau. The ceremony would be held on the beach, but the afterparty would be here.

 _I am already here._ Jester glances, feeling the slight pull of energy, and she spots a fading green cloak as it disappears around the corner.

Jester laughs.

“As long as you don’t do anything to ruin Veth’s special day.” She reminds him, her tongue poking out from her lip as she holds her balance on the ladder. She does not really expect the Traveler to do anything. He loves his pranks – and so does she – and it’s not like she doesn’t think Veth wouldn’t appreciate a good joke during the ceremony but…but…Jester really wants to make today special. Memorable for her friends. They mean so much to her and she _knows_ that _the_ _Traveler_ _knows_ that.

“Jester.” Caduceus steps out from the kitchens, there’s flour or sugar dusted across his clothing – “I just got a message from Veth, she said Caleb was looking for you at the beach.”

Without another thought, Jester casts Sending to Caleb: _Heyyyy Caleb! Why didn’t you just message me you! Ohhh - Is it some secret? Did you want to meet me alone or something because you—_ The spell fizzles away, the word limit reached. Jester climbs down from the ladder while she awaits Caleb’s reply.

She could already imagine that he was counting his message on his fingers so he could use the spell properly. If anyone took this day as seriously as she did – it was Caleb.

 _We have a small problem and I could use your expertise on the matter. It is not an emergency. Could you meet me?_ There’s a pause. _Beep, boop._

Jester giggles, passing off her task of hanging ribbons to one of the helper’s her Mama hired, and hurries to the soft, sandy shore of Nicodranas. The air feels _electric_. It’s a perfect, blue-sky day, with no rainclouds, no impending thunderstorms and the Traveler was right – she _did_ have a pep in her step.

Her stomach flips anxiously as she spots Caleb. His hair, orange in the sunlight, vibrantly contrasts the turquoise water as he stands on the beach, his arms crossed and as she nears – she can see his brows are pinched together in concentration. His face relaxes when she approaches, and his hands fall to his sides. She notices the way his thumb rubs the side of his index finger. 

“Good, you’re here.” He looks around the beach. It’s empty save for them. Jester cannot place why – but she suddenly feels…nervous. But not like _that_! Caleb would never hurt her. It’s more excitement than nerves, but that’s probably because _today_ is just _so_ _exciting_.

Her joy is bleeding through everything like watercolor paint. The love that pours outward from her heart, it spills in every direction, into every interaction, and it’s nearly impossible not to smile. Even with the looming ‘small problem’ that Caleb mentioned. Nothing could dampen her good mood.

“So, our small problem,” Calebs hands wring together, “We can’t find Luc.”

Okay – something _could_ dampen her mood.

“W-what like he’s **missing**? Cayleb! This is _more_ than a small problem! This is a big problem! Oh shit! Oh shit!” Her instincts kick into panic, because oh-shit we might’ve lost the five-year-old _CHILD-_ of the bride and groom _._ Caleb reads her expression and quickly interjects with-

“We were perhaps hoping you could scry for his location rather than searching the entire city. Veth thinks he’s just climbed into one of the hiding spots at the Chateau.” 

“Oh.” Jester’s panic deflates as quickly as it arrived – “ _Duh_.”

She shuts her eyes.

It takes her less than a moment to find Luc.

Veth knows her son well.

“C’mon!” She shouts, “I’ve got him.” She reaches out, clasping Caleb’s hand and pulling him with her – the electric current that she felt when she first stepped outside now courses through her again. She feels _alive_ with it all. The salt air, the waves crashing against the shore, Caleb’s hand clutched within her own. She likes the way his palm feels (warmer than hers) and how his fingers tentatively wrap around hers.

She doesn’t let go of Caleb’s hand until they’re back in the Chateau and that’s _only_ because she needs both hands for what she’s going to do. Caleb trails beside her, and although he isn’t speaking, she can feel his eyes on her. The empty room has a _super_ -secret hidden panel that Jester discovered when she was young.

“Augh.” A cobweb catches on Jester’s horn as she crawls into the space, she casts a quick look over her shoulder – “Don’t stare at my _butt_ , Caleb!”

Behind her, she hears Caleb make a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Her laughter carries through the tiny, wooden space. There are etchings and drawings on these walls. Walls seemed so vast when she was a child –her very own labyrinth.

At least, they _had_ been. Eventually, Jester discovered all the hidden nooks and passageways and it stopped being oh-so mysterious. The only fun she had was listening in on guests at the Chateau…at least until she and the Traveler started playing their pranks.

They crawl together in the darkened space, their shoulders hunched, tendrils of hair catching dust and wispy spider webs. Light peeks through slants in the wood, revealing drawings of Jester, the Traveler, Marion, with unicorns, hamsters, candy, dragons, and donuts. It’s colorful and chaotic. A place no one else had seen until today. Of course.

Jester stops, her heart in her throat, a large drawing of herself, her mama, the Traveler, and a featureless blue person in front of her. Her legs fold beneath her and she touches the drawing, fondly, sadly, because some stories don’t end up the way you _wished_.

“Jester?” Caleb’s breath tickles the back of her ear. He’s closer than she expected. There’s a light touch in the middle of her back. She can feel the very faint pressure of his fingertips; one-two-three-four-five points of warmth. It’s nice.

A sigh rattles loose from her chest.

“Are you alright?”

 _“Yes and No.”_ She wants to tell him, _“I imagined a different life. A different story. And I’m so happy I found you all, I’m so happy you’re here, but I’m also sad too – because I feel like I missed out on **something**. And that’s silly because I have so much and I’m so lucky and I just don’t know how it’s possible to feel happy and still miss something you never had.” _

Today is Veth’s day. So, instead, she says: “Luc should be right up ahead.”

The narrow passageway opens to a small, closet sized space. Luc is sitting on one of the many velvet pillows that Jester hoarded into this place. He’s drawing on the wall with a piece of forgotten chalk. His shaggy brown hair is combed away from his face and he’s dressed so smartly – so _cutely_ – for tonight’s celebration. Jester wants to pinch his cheeks.

“Hi Luc.” Jester is radiant in her smile. She crawls right over to the pillows, settling beside him, “Whatcha drawing?”

A tiny fairy-sized light floats into the space and Caleb maneuvers himself into the enclosed space. His knee and shoulder presses against Jester’s. The weight of it is an anchor. Caleb’s come so far, she knows this, and she’s proud of him. She makes a mental note to tell him. Someday. Maybe today.

Not right now though. Not with a five-year-old child around.

“Mom.” Luc answers, “Does it look like her?” His eyes are on Caleb when he speaks. Luc had taken a shining to Caleb – but who _wouldn’t_? Jester leans a little more into his side. She thinks maybe she hears his breath hitch. Her fingers curl into the fabric of her dust-speckled dress.

“You are an artist, young Brenatto.” Caleb answers with sincerity, with affection, the love he has for Veth translates easily over to Luc. Jester knows the feeling because she feels it, too. “Speaking of your mother - she is looking for you. She was worried you had run off.”

Luc’s face reddens, “I’m sorry.”

Jester – unable to bear the sight of the forlorn child – immediately speaks up, “It’s pretty amazing that you found my hiding spots, you know? Like, this stuff is _really_ hidden. Only someone really talented and smart and special could find it.”

He brightens, lifting his head up, “R-really?”

“Oh, yeah! Totally!” Jester nods eagerly.

“Jester is right.” Caleb adds, leaning his chest forward, his palms planted on his knees, “We could not find you at all. This place it is – ah – it is like a maze. I’m afraid we would’ve never found you if not for Jester’s help. You are a _natural_ at being stealthy.”

“Just like mom?”

Caleb and Jester nod.

Luc is beaming with pride and filled with their praise. He excitedly sets the chalk back down as he finishes his drawing, “Can I show mom my drawing?”

“Sure.” Jester grins, “But, this will be our secret, alright? Only you, me, Caleb, and Veth can know about the secret tunnels, okay?”

“ _Secret_ _tunnel…_ ” Caleb mutters in a sing-song voice beside her.

Luc nods with all the severity of a five-year-old being tasked to keep something precious. Children _know_ the weight of promises, after all. They are much like the Fey in that regard. He crawls off in the next direction, into the darkness of cobwebs and memories, and Jester smiles as she watches him go. What next? What next? She needed to finish hanging up the ribbons, she needed to see how dinner was coming, she needed to check in with everyone about their clothes and flowers and--

“Jester?”

“Mhm?” She turns to face Caleb – Caleb, softly illuminated by fairy light, Caleb, tucked inside her childhood hiding place, Caleb with his cute dimple chin and sea-touched blue eyes.

“Thank you…” The words pour across her skin and her eyelashes flutter. “…for all that you’re doing for Veth and her family. She jokes and teases, but I know she appreciates everything you’ve done for her today.” He pauses, eyes moving across her face with such intention that Jester _swears_ she can feel the trail of heat they leave behind, “You are an incredible friend. I - We are so lucky to have you.”

His lips press together. There are more words around the lines of his mouth, in the reflection of her face inside his eyes, the slow movement of his hands closing to fists on his lap. Her heart doubles – no – _triples_ in size.

“Caleb.” Her voice is feather-light, tender and sweet – like powdered sugar dusting the top of a cupcake. “You have been a tremendous help too, you know! I can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions when they see all the cool stuff you have planned for the ceremony.”

“Oh,” He looks away, “It is nothing. Just – “ He lifts his hand, rotates his wrist in a half circle as he finishes his sentence – “Magic lights.” The light of fire he conjured does a little spin to copy the movement of his hand.

“You…you do a lot, Caleb. You do so much for all of us.” Jester licks her lips, “I’m so glad we met, you know? I hope we never-ever-ever stop traveling together.” 

She thought she was used Caleb looking at her.

But apparently _not_. Because the look he gives her _now_ is enough to melt stone. Something inside her heart ignites, catches, and burns her up from the inside out. Her skin tingles with awareness, with _understanding_ , and awe. How could she have been blind to this?

“Oh, _Cheyster_.”

The world seems to move in slow-motion as his eyes drop, eyelashes kissing his flushed cheekbones for a breath of a second, and then lift back up to meet her own. The infinitesimal gap between them narrows and narrows until the tip of his nose touches the tip of hers. His palm reverently cradles the side of her face, his fingertips on her temple, and Jester tilts her head to ease into the touch.

“Are you two done playing Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

Caleb jerks away, “Ow-Fuck.” He exclaims as his elbow hits the wall beside him.

Jester blinks. Her world plunges into darkness as Caleb’s spell winks out and her Darkvision adjusts.

She clears her throat, “Veth! You sneaky-sneak.” She nudges Caleb beside her, trying to play it _cool_ , trying to avoid exploding because her heart is hammering inside her chest and her hands are shaking, and she’s trembling with anticipation and excitement and the _desire_ to just grab Caleb and kiss him is suffocating and burning up all her brain cells. “We didn’t even hear you!”

“That’s kind of the point of being a rouge.” Veth says, then her attention is on Caleb as his fairy light blinks back into existence, “You should’ve sent a message if you were _busy_ , Caleb. I understand that you’re a man and you have needs—you know, it’s like putting a sock on the doorknob—now, I’m not judging, it’s perfectly healthy and natural and--”

“Did you see the drawing Luc made?“ Caleb cuts in, eyes darting to little Luc, his hand rubbing at the sore spot on his elbow. 

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, Mom, look!”

Caleb crawls free of the hiding spot shortly after and Jester stamps down on her disappointment. It’s not like she won’t see him again. Caleb is _staying_ at the Chateau. They’ll both be at the wedding. She doesn’t plan on stopping her travels with him anytime soon. Jester won’t let this business remain unfinished. Not if she can help it.

~

The ceremony really _is_ beautiful.

Veth and Yeza renew their vows in front of a setting sun, the pink sky blossoming with orange and finishing with an indigo twilight that creates the perfect backdrop for Caleb’s spells. He creates green and yellow sparkles akin to fireworks like they once saw in Hupperdook, translucent images from their adventures (ones appropriate for Luc to see) and memories that Yeza and Veth both shared with him, and then –a surprise to all – he uses a spell to teleport the cake from the kitchen to the beach. 

It’s a magnificent four-tier with dark chocolate and piped yellow flowers. Two halfling figures sit at the top.

Veth declares that they’ll cut the cake _after_ the first dance. “Fuck tradition!” She says, “I’m getting married twice. I will do what I want.”

Caleb merely shrugs and gives her a smile brimming with fondness, “Of course, Frau Brenatto.”

Jester uses the opportunity to catch up to Caleb. She catches the sleeve of his black coat. They’ve all dressed to the nines (Ha, ha) for the occasion. Her own dress is a periwinkle shade dusted with glitter, the cut dips modestly between her breasts, and the sparkled hem reaches just above her knees.

“Hey.” She pulls him closer, “You owe me a dance.”

A smirk teases at his mouth. “Do I?”

“Mhhm.” Her hand slips to his wrist, her thumb pressing against his pulse – which she finds is beating about as fast as hers. “It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

Caleb offers her his hand and Jester takes it, happily, her pulse pounding in her throat.

“Just don’t step on my toes.” She teases. The soft sand clings to her toes and ankles, her shoes long forgotten and tucked away somewhere under a chair.

“As long as you do not step on mine, blueberry.”

The music swells and so does Jester’s heart.

It’s perfect. It’s really, _really_ perfect. Her throat goes all tight and she can’t help it – she tries, she does, she really, really does but the tears slip out anyway as the smile breaks across her face and her grip on Caleb’s hand tightens.

“I’m _so_ happy, Caleb.” She lets out a short, watery laugh, “I’m so, so, _happy_. I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy. We did it. We made Veth and Yeza have the perfect day. Everyone’s here! Everyone’s safe! We’ve did such a good job. I’m proud of us.” She doesn’t bother to wipe the tears away because wiping them would mean letting Caleb go, it would mean _not_ _touching_ Caleb, and she’d rather feel the salty trails travel down her cheeks than to _let him go_. “I’m proud of you.”

His lips part and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He mutters something in Zemnian. It sounds like a curse. Then again, everything in Zemnian sounds like a curse.

Their waltz slows as Caleb pulls Jester closer and there it is again – that _feeling_. It trills across her skin and inside her bones and along her heartbeat and Jester can’t stop smiling and she can’t stop staring. They’re here among the people she loves the most in this world. She just witnessed her best friend renew her vows to the love of her life in a ceremony that she helped organize and put together.

Jester’s toes dig into the sand as she arches her feet up, onto tiptoes, and her face tilts up towards Caleb’s. The breeze tickles her skin and pushes her hair around her face, the strands touching Caleb’s jaw, as if to pull him in.

Caleb’s lips lift into a slow, secret smile.

“FLUFFERNUTTER!” Veth screams out, swiftly followed by a squishy, wet **_BANG_**! Large chunks of chocolate, frosting, and cake explode outward and Jester cries out in surprise as they land in her hair and on her dress.

The Mighty Nein, who were dancing around the small table where cake had been, found themselves covered in frosting and dark sponge. Save for Veth and Yeza who were safely several feet away. Their combined laughter rang out, across the rolling waves and the salty shoreline and carried with the cries of seagulls.

Jester wipes away a smear of chocolate on her cheek, her eyes bright, her body alight with joy and pure, unfiltered happiness, and love. Her eyes rise back up to Caleb with frosting on his nose and chocolate crumbs in his hair.

His smile shatters her world and rearranges it in a kaleidoscope of new colors. She throws her arms around his neck, presses her messy face into his shoulder, and howls with laughter.

His arms encircle her waist, holding her tight, keeping her close, and Jester firmly decides that there is no other place she’d rather be. No other place in the _entire_ world.

~

It’s not until later that Jester learns Luc never truly went missing. It was just part of Veth’s plan to get Caleb and Jester away from the wedding planning so she could enact her “incredible, never-been done before, amazing wedding moment that will inspire poems, plays, and books for the next ten years. No other wedding prank will top this so don’t even try.” (her words exactly).

“I dunno.” Jester had replied, licking frosting from her fingers, “I feel like if we got invited to more weddings, I could come up with something really, really good.”

“I think we’d need more friends to get invited to weddings, Jessie.” Beau had said, glancing at Yasha.

Jester shrugged. As if a _technicality_ ever stopped her from doing anything before.

“I’m sure there will be future weddings.” Marion said, breezily, pouring herself another healthy glass of wine. Her eyes cut over to Caleb, “Wouldn’t you agree, Caleb? You are all so _very_ young. It would be my greatest pleasure to see my sweet little Sapphire married and happy.”

“Mama!” Jester hid her face and Caleb cleared his throat, looking _anywhere_ else but at Marion.

Caduceus nodded, “Weddings are fun.”


	2. Magnificent Mansion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope/Prompt: Caleb’s love language is spells  
> Trigger Warnings: None
> 
> “Let Caleb cast the magnificent mansion, cowards.” Also; “I know Liam has a ten-page summary about what everyone’s room looks like, but we are just going to focus on Jester’s." - me, today, thinking about how CR leveled up.

“HOLY SHITBALLS, CALEB!” Jester exclaims, skirt billowing out as she twirls, arms open, her head thrown back to absorb the sight of the mansion that Caleb’s magic created. The entryway is cozy, with thick colorful rugs strewn about and dark wooden exposed beams, the air smells vaguely of cinnamon and charcoal. There are no candles or chandeliers, but rather, little balls of light drift throughout the archway. Like golden fireflies.

Jester loves it already.

“Wait!” She perks up, clasping her hands at her throat, “You said we all got our own rooms, right?”

Caleb swallows and then – caught by her infectious grin – smiles at her.

“Ja.” His index finger taps the side of his nose, “Yours is upstairs, third door to the left. Beside Beauregards'.”

Jester wheels around and barrels up the stairs, the sounds of her companion’s voices fading into the background as she runs down the hallway. Her door has a pair of googly eyes drawn, just like the ones she _makes_ , in bright green above the doorknob.

She shoves the door open and gasps with unbridled delight. Her hand clings to the doorknob, her mouth ajar, as she drinks it all in.

The first thing she notices is the canvases and painting supplies. She could say they were tucked away, but that would imply the space was small – which it very much was _not_. It’s bigger than her mother’s room at the Chateau. It’s bigger than anything she’s ever _seen_. The color scheme is rosy pastels accented with splashes of dark blues or silver here and there, but not _overwhelming_. The temperature is cozy and welcoming and Jester spots two – no, _three_ – hidden dicks among the décor. She can almost bet that there’s more. She just needs to find them.

A bed, larger than a King’s, is covered in thick, fluffy blankets and soft pillows. Sheer lilac tinted curtains are held by magic around the bed at four points to the ceiling. 

Jester thinks it would look better as blue ones. The lilac color abruptly shifts and her brain scrambles to understand the change. It’s as if they were never lilac in the first place. It pictured itself exactly the way she wished – exactly how she saw it inside her mind’s eye. _It listened to me._

She steps into the room, eyes trailing across the bookshelves – little knickknacks of wooden creatures, food for Sprinkle, empty sketchbooks waiting to be filled, small potted plants with delicate strings of leaves, pictures of herself and the Mighty Nein that _move_. Though, she suspects they aren’t _really_ photos and instead are just enchanted frames. A closet is wide open displaying various cloaks and dresses. There’s a desk with more books, a large leafed vine plant that crawled across the shelves, more trinkets, and a little _hammock_ – a weasel hammock, Jester realizes – hanging from a window that overlooks a rolling wildflower meadow.

Her feet lead her to the painting corner, arranged to sit beside two glass balcony doors.

She leans down, lifting a glittery, pink pigment and turns it to read the label: “Fairy Poop.” She smiles and lifts another, “Traveler’s Green.” That one makes her heart squeeze inside her chest.

“Nott Yellow.” She laughs out loud as the paint color shifts from canary yellow to olive green when she twists it either toward or away from the light beaming from her balcony doors. She wonders what’ll be like when she paints it. She can _hardly_ wait.

Another one reads, “Cobalt Soul Blue.” , “Frumpkin” (a dark orange shade)”, “Marion’s Song” (a shimmery dark red with golden flecks) – Jester can barely hold them all inside her arms.

The next one falls, “Ah, shit.” She says as it bounces from her foot and rolls along the floor, bumping lightly into the easel’s leg. She sets the pile in her arms gently down onto a wooden, paint-speckled table.

The script written along the label is the same as the rest, small and neat, but Jester’s heart skips a beat all the same – “Jester’s Smile.” The container appears empty, but she can see the translucent liquid shifting when she tilts the jar from side to side.

Well, she always _loved_ a good mystery.

Jester presses her thumb against the top, squeezing some paint onto her finger, and she smears it against her canvas. The paint glistens wetly and then…

It’s a gradient of purple, light blue, and dark green that starts to _glow_. Then, flecks of the paint lift into the air, as if they no longer follow the rules of gravity. Section by section they float up, past Jester’s face, and into the air – up and up – till they touch the ceiling. The paint vanishes as it touches the ceiling with a small, lingering spark.

“OH MY GOD! _CAYLEB_!” She cries out, dropping the jar (it doesn’t break, because, well, magic. _Duh_ ). Her arms fall to her sides, her neck arched fully back so she can stare straight up at her ceiling that is no longer a ceiling but a **_sky_**. The stars wink in and out with a crescent shaped moon illuminating her bedroom with a gentle, pale, and ethereal light.

“Jester?!” Caleb appears, both his hands clutching her doorframe, “Are you alright? Did somet—Oh.”

“Caleb, you did this?! You made all this? Caleb!” She bounds over to him and throws her arms around him in a big, big squeezing hug. “It’s wonderful, Caleb! It’s _perfect_!”

“J-Ja, well.” His hand awkwardly rests between her shoulder blades. She just hugs him tighter and squishes her cheek to his chest. She can hear his strong and thundering heartbeat. “Y-you deserve it. You all do. If there is anything you do not like – It will – It will change.”

“ _Thank you so much, Caleb_.” Jester says, quietly, her voice tight.

A moment passes and Caleb’s bones relax into her touch, his nose presses to the crown of her head, and they remain like that – fairy lights drifting in and out of the open door with a magically conjured night sky above them bathing the room in shades of blue and grey-white. A wispy, slow-moving cloud flows across the moonlight.

“You really like it then?” He asks with his voice wavering with uncertainty.

Jester blinks up at him.

“You could really have a future in interior decorating, you know.” She teases with a slow, slow smile as she pulls away from the hug, “I love it, Caleb. I really, really do!”

Another smile tugs at his mouth, “Well, there’s one more thing I’d like to show you.”

He guides her down the hallway. The smell of coffee roasting and bread baking permeates the air. Jester doesn’t know if it’s Caduceus inside the kitchen or if Caleb’s programmed the mansion to always smell _delicious_.

“Nothing inside the mansion that’s created here can leave it. We can bring things in, but we cannot take things _out_.” He opens the door without any flourish or dramatics, but Jester feels her heart race all the same. It’s a gallery. An _empty_ art gallery.

“So, I thought,” He scratches the side of his face, “It would be a shame if you painted something and couldn’t show it off. We – it does not have to stay like this. We can change it.”

“You really thought of everything, huh?” Jester tosses a smile over her shoulder. “I love it. I already _know_ the first thing I’m going to paint…but I need you to summon Frumpkin for me.”

Caleb snaps his fingers and the fey cat appears, stretching its back in an elongated arch by Caleb’s feet. He looks at the creature, his voice very stern and serious, “Do whatever Jester says, Ja?”

Frumpkin meows, his tail flicking as he pads over to Jester and weaves between her legs, “Aww!” Jester scoops him up, “I promise you’ll get him back by the end of the day!”

His eyes go soft, brows slightly upturned, as he looks at her standing amongst the empty museum that he crafted for _her_ , “Ja, okay.”

Jester kisses his cheek before she leaves the room with Frumpkin bundled in her arms.

Caleb, his ears and face red, does not leave the doorway for several long, _long_ minutes. His fingertips press to the side of his face where she kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about Caleb making Jester her own room for like five seconds and i knew i had to write this. 
> 
> UGH SO CUTE.
> 
> thank you so much for your support ya'll :) i hope these cute stories will be happy little lights during times of angst


	3. Impromptu Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope/Prompt: Clerics have a spell called Ceremony, Jester tells Caduceus to cast it on her and Caleb during a fight.   
> Trigger Warnings: None  
> I re-watched Pirates of the Caribbean recently and then floated the idea to the Widojest Discord about how “marriage” is just A SPELL in DnD. One with practical uses.

They weren’t _losing_. Not to enemies like these. There was just a lot of them! And arguably speaking…they weren’t doing _great_. It could be better. _A lot_ better. Jester slammed her shield into the bony-skeletal attacker, her eyes tracking a femur as it flew into the night sky.

“Ugh! Get lost!” Jester pointed the business-end of her ax at the skeleton warrior and a radiant burst of her Sacred Flame caught the decaying remnants of its clothing. The creature stumbled back; jaw unhinged in a wordless, noiseless cry.

Her shoulder bumped against someone else and Jester half-turned, facing the serious, focused expression of the redhaired wizard on their team. A bead of sweat trickled from his brow as another group of skeletons crawled out of the white, soft sand _. Too many, too many_. Jester chewed her lip and glanced around the battlefield.

Caduceus was nearby, as was Fjord. Beau and Yasha were about thirty feet away with a line of skeletons blocking a direct path. A blasting heat whooshed past Jester, her skirt billowed and whipped at her legs as the oxygen pulled to follow the flame of Caleb’s Fire Bolt. Veth was almost pinned down and _narrowly_ escaped by ducking into the shadows. Jester lost sight of her. _Rogues._ But she had seen the cloying blood at Veth’s hairline. How long could they possibly last like this?

She grabbed Caleb’s wrist, “Caduceus! Marry us!”

The firbolg looked bewildered for a half-second, then nodded with sudden understanding, “Are you both willing?”

“What?!” Caleb’s voice ricocheted off the chaos of skeletal screams and blades crashing.

“It’s a spell!” She answered with her lips pressed tight. She had no time to face Caleb. No time to read his expression. No time to explain the full details. Her sacred weapon smashed into a skeleton skull and Jester brought her duplicate closer to engage another enemy.

Her eyes sought Caduceus’, “I’ll marry you and Fjord after. We _need_ the boost. They’re going to overwhelm us and then we’ll be fucking screwed! Come on, Caleb! It’ll take a second!”

“Mr. Caleb?” Caduceus stepped into their space, his beetles bursting from his staff and fluttering around him in a pink chittering cloud, “Are you willing?”

“Ah – I –“

From the distance, Beau yelled out in frustration – “We need to get to the temple!” Yasha’s sword swung wide, cleaving three heads from their bodies in a powerful surge of force. A bony hand crawled, grasping handfuls of soft sand, slowly pulling itself toward Jester’s legs. She kicked it – hard.

His pulse jumped underneath her fingertips. She gave his wrist an encouraging squeeze and finally surmounted the courage to look over at him, “Caleb?” Her eyes go little wide at the bright pink color high on his cheekbones and flushing down his neck.

There’s a second of hesitation before he nodded, his voice a whisper against the roaring flames of his Wall of Fire, “Okay.”

Caduceus placed one hand on each their shoulders, his grip heavy, like a weighted blanket. “In the eyes of the Wild Mother, Lady of Life, of Storms and Gentle Rains – “ He paused as Fjord unleashed an Eldritch Blast and Beau parkoured over Yasha’s shoulder to slam her elbow into the jaw of a skeleton. It went down and Beau followed it, her fists rearing back to strike once more.

“Let us bear witness to this union between Caleb Widogast and Jester Lavorre. May your blessings be many and may your enemies cower in full view of your combined strength, wisdom...and…” A slight smirk pulled at Caduceus’ expression, “mischievousness.” 

Jester doesn’t know if she’s imagining it or if it really is the effect of the spell – but her heart floated inside her chest and _tugged forward_. As if a string now bound it – _her_ \- to Caleb. (For the seven days, at least.)

“Remain within thirty feet of one another.” Caduceus said before stepping away, his smile now wistful.

A strange, compelling sense of giddiness welled up inside of her. She bit down on her lip and didn’t let go of his wrist – deciding, instead, to slide her hand down and curl it around his.

She gently squeezed his hand, “So, we stay close.” She whispered conspiratorially with a little wink up at Caleb. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a tight swallow. He opened his mouth to speak, but then his focus was back on the battle at hand, his hand swooping in the familiar gestures of spellcasting.

He did not let go of her hand.

“I’ve never married anyone before. How exciting.” Caduceus said.

“ _Me eeeeither_!” Jester sing-songed back to him, “Fjord! Get over here!”

“Little busy at the moment, Jester!” Fjord called back and used the hilt of his weapon to knock against his opponent’s teeth.

“Oh.” Caduceus’ eyes glowed faintly, “That won’t do.” His gaze leveled at the creature attacking Fjord, his baritone voice thin as ice, “ _Halt_.”

The creature obeyed. Fjord used the opportunity to slash his sword down it’s middle, dislodging its ribcage and shattering its breastbone. 

Jester grabbed Fjord’s sleeve, “The Great and Awesome Traveler who is Super Cool and Also My Best Friend Blesses this Union!” She grinned between Caduceus’ and Fjord, wiggling her eyebrows, “I hereby pronounce you – Fjord and Caduceus – Married. Forever. _Technically_.”

“That’s not how it—” Caduceus blocked a blow with his shield, “Never mind.”

With the aid of the Traveler & the Wild Mother, the fight _did_ turn around. They managed to reconnect with Beau and Yasha and smite all the awful, decaying corpses and skeletons, and make their way to the abandoned temple of the Undying King. One of the Betrayer Gods.

Jester kept her hand clasped with Caleb’s. It didn’t matter that it was a little sweaty and damp. He clung to her as tightly as she clung to him and that had to mean _something_ – right?

“So,” He said, as they trailed behind the group, “We – ah – we are married? That is- it’s just a spell, Ja?”

“Sort of.” Jester shrugged, unable to miss the way her heart stuttered at the realization that she and Caleb were, _technically_ , in the eyes of the Wild Mother & Traveler, bound together. In the heat of battle, she could write off her giddiness as excitement for a plan well-executed. They weren’t in battle anymore, though, so why was her heart racing?

“For the next week, we’ll always have a little…more luck on our side, I guess, you could say. As long as we’re close.” She swung their joined hands back and forth.

He did not pull away. He stared ahead at the jungle pathway for a long, long moment. Mosquitoes buzzed in the air around them as dusk painted the sky a brilliant bright orange against a turquoise colored sea.

Caleb’s lips pursed together, “Ah. Hm.”

“What?” Her arm brushed against his, the pull of _magic_ drawing her closer, “Do you want a divorce _already_ , Caleb?!” She said, a little louder than necessary, causing Veth to shoot a look over her shoulder.

Caleb choked on a laugh, “N-no. No. Gods, no, Jester.”

He rubbed his forehead with his free hand. A lingering smile clung to his lips. She pocketed the memory; endeavored to remember the way Caleb’s face looked, the angles of the shadows touching his brow and jaw, the strands of reddish-brown hair framing his face as the sunlight poured molten gold across the stocky palm trees and large ferns.

She licked her lips, joy bubbling up inside her, “Then you’re cool with being _Mr_. _Lavorre_ for a while?”

Caleb’s head turned towards hers, something soft and sweet touching his expression before it was whisked away, like drawing the curtains over a widow. Jester wished she could pull away those curtains and let the sunshine in. In time. _Hopefully_. Jester was very good at waiting, you know. Her thumb rubbed against his.

“It’s an honor, _Frau_ _Lavorre_.”

“Does this mean I can throw you a retroactive Bachelor party?!” Veth perked up, “You **_and_** Fjord???”

“You are **NOT** throwing me a bachelor party!” Came Fjord’s immediate and incensed reply.

“Oh shit!” Beau laughed, “I’d love to see that. Fjord? Fjord? Come on, man. _I’ll_ plan the party. We can go get a bunch of fireworks and shit, Veth do you still have fireworks? Can you _make_ fireworks?”

Their companions chatter filled the humid air touched by twilight. Immersed as they were in conversation, no one (save for Caduceus) noticed when Caleb brought their combined hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of Jester’s hand. A pleasant, sparkling tingle coursed through her bones and her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> technically the spell takes an hour to cast but u know what I DO WHAT I WANT !!!
> 
> i love thinking of widojest ideas and then my brain refusing to do anything else until i write it LMAO


	4. Blueberry Cupcake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trope/Prompt: Domestic Fluff  
> Triggers (if any): None
> 
> Idk. They deserve to be happy. Future!Fic ~ it's a short one. but it's CUTE.

The sunlight pours golden light into the room, catching motes of dust, twinkling in and out of existence stars on a cloudy night. Caleb rubs the back of his neck as he sits up. The muscle aching from his late-night study. The blackened proof of ink stains smudges his thumb and forefinger on his dominant hand. His eyes catch a doodle of Nott riding Frumpkin into battle painted on the wooden beam that supports this little home and he feels his lips twitch in a smile.

He tosses the patchwork quilt from his legs and slides his feet into his boots. His spine aches a little when he bends down to lace them up. He reaches over for his glasses on the night table. The golden morning haze becomes sharper but no less sweet. No less divine. No less peaceful.

“Oooo!” Jester’s voice lilts into the room, “Someone slept in!”

His head tilts up and his vision fills with Jester and her radiant brilliance. She’s cupping a steaming mug of coffee between her hands and Caleb wordlessly reaches out for it – “Thank you.” He holds the mug with one hand and holds Jester’s with the other. His thumb brushes over her knuckles. And in response to the touch, his heart summersaults in his chest.

_All these years…and it’s just the same._

His eyes roam her face, the lines around her eyes, her mouth, to the little whisps of silver woven through dark blue.

“Beau and Yasha are visiting today, remember?”

“Ja.” His lips lift into a smirk, “Keen mind, remember?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, “I was thinking we’d make something special like bear claws.”

Caleb nods.

“They would like that.”

“And cupcakes, too. We _have_ to make cupcakes.”

And that’s how Caleb finds himself in the kitchen his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows and flour coating his hands. Jester shimmies around the kitchen, her shoulders bouncing and tail flicking as she adds far too much cinnamon to the bear claws and creates the most extravagant and vibrant cupcake designs that he’s ever seen.

Jester taps Caleb’s nose and leaves behind a smear of purple icing. And she laughs with delight at his bewildered expression.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Lavorre.” He teases as he wipes it away.

Jester wiggles her eyebrows in reply, “Uh-huh. Sure, Cayleb, _Suuure_.”

Caleb feels another smile catch his mouth and he doesn’t try to suppress it. Those days are behind him. _This_ is his life now. And – as Jester would say – _it’s pretty cool_.

Caleb traces a symbol into the flour on the countertop while Jester is measuring, he waits for a beat, and then—“Ah!” Jester yelps as the sugar erupts in front of her face. She quickly shakes her head and a soft cloud glistens and floats around her head before dispersing.

She spins around and pins Caleb with an accusatory, yet playful glare. “Caleb!”

“I warned you.” He replies airily and steps forward into her space, and it’s so easy– being next to her, smiling with her, casting spells to cause confectionery chaos just because he _can_.

When Caleb leans down to kiss her – her lips are dusted in powdered sugar. It’s his new favorite thing.

Jester’s hands latch to the front of his shirt, “This doesn’t make us even, you know? I still have more cupcakes to frost.” There’s sugar clinging to her eyelashes, her skin, the jewelry on her horns. They rest upon her blue skin like sweet freckles. Sugar and flour and dried icing splatter across her cat-and-lollipop apron.

“You _look_ like a cupcake.”

Jester snorts, “A blueberry one?”

“Ja.” Caleb leans down again, letting his forehead rest against hers, “A blueberry one.”

Jester’s eyes narrow and her nose scrunches and Caleb is sure that he’s fallen in love with her over a hundred – no, a _thousand_ times over by now. Her arms loop around his shoulders and sit comfortably there. They sway in the kitchen for a few minutes lost in the music of their own making. Of shared heartbeats and Frumpkin purring loudly in his window perch and the air heavy with cinnamon and warmth. Jester hums a happy little tune.

Caleb smiles.

She smiles back.


	5. A sweet surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope/Prompt: There was Only One Bed  
> Triggers (if any): None
> 
> A classic ;)

“I’m sorry.” The innkeeper worried their roughened palms together, “But I’m afraid we don’t have enough rooms for all of you.”

“We can bunk together.” Beau said, glancing over at Yasha and Jester.

“Nott’s not even a full-sized person.” Fjord chimed in with a shrug. Nott screeched with sudden indignation, an easy threat against Fjord’s kneecaps rolling off her tongue. Yeza – for his part – looked nervously between his wife and the half-orc.

“Nott, you want to stay with your husband, yeah?” Jester asked, creeping up on tiptoes to peer over Yasha’s shoulder. Even the main room of this inn was _small_. Caleb hunched his shoulders. The numbers adding up inside his head. If Nott and Yeza roomed together, would he room with them? No. He couldn’t. That would be _odd_. Caduceus and Fjord already agreed to room together and a third person likely would not fit given the fact that Caduceus was simply twice the size of anyone else in their party. Beau and Jester would like to be roommates. They often always _were_.

So, that could leave him with Yasha? That might not be so terrible. He had taken watch with Yasha before. At least he knew if he needed to do spell work that Yasha would not interrupt him. He scratched at his arms – bereft of the bandages.

“I’ll room with Caleb then.” Jester’s voice cut through his thoughts, like a ray of sunshine cutting through the clouds. The conversation buzzed around him. The ale-sticky floor swaying beneath his feet. Surely – _surely,_ he hadn’t heard her right.

“What?”

“If that’s okay with you, Caleb?” She smiled at him. Fangs and freckles. A picture-perfect ruin to all the carefully laid defenses of his heart.

“Are you sure? You –“ He glanced over to Beau and Yasha, “You typically room with Beauregard.”

There’s something mischievous in Jester’s grin as it widens.

Something mischievous and a _little_ creepy.

His heart swooped once more.

“I’m sure!” She flattened her palm against the counter and the coins clinked with the impact of her hand.

With their keys obtained; the Mighty Nein shuffled upstairs for a much-needed rest and respite after their journey.

Jester breezed into the room with her green cloak trailing behind. It was only for one night. He would survive it. They had slept under the same stars half-a-hundred times. This was no different to sleeping outside.

“Oh.” Caleb blinked. The tiny room piecing itself together in his mind. A singular bed. A singular window. A singular chair. An animal hide rug on the floor.

“Well,” Jester flopped onto the bed, “It’s cozy!”

“There –“ He tensed his jaw, trying to reconfigure his fried nerve-endings, “There’s only one bed.”

“Yeah. Duh.” Jester looked up at him as she pulled her sketchbook free, “Didn’t you hear the inn-keep say that?” She wiggled her eyebrows, “That’s _why_ I had Beau and Yasha room together.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. His stubble scratched against his fingertips. The floor. He could sleep on the floor. He’s slept in worse places. It is only one night. One night and they’d be back on the road and perhaps they could check for a bookstore on their way out of the town.

“ _Caleb_.”

“Ja?”

“You’re not thinking of sleeping on the floor, are you?”

A familiar heat crept up the back of his neck. He rubbed it away. “No.”

Jester patted the spot next to her. As if pulled by an invisible string, Caleb stepped forward and shut the door behind him. He took his time removing his dark coat and unwinding the scarf from his neck. He folded them, with care, meticulous and careful, and set them on the solitary chair near the foot of the bed. He pulled his books from their holster before unclasping it and draping it on the back of the chair.

He did all this with the acute knowledge of Jester watching him. He could see her out of the corner of his eye chewing on the end of her pencil. Comfortable at last, he took the time to make an alarm around the room and turned to face Jester when he finished.

She ducked her head down to her sketchbook with a sly grin on her face. She had not yet said a word and he wished she would. Because as well as he could read Jester – he could not understand that expression she wore. There was a hint of deviousness and a hint of triumph.

The mattress dipped as he sat down on it. His heartbeat an erratic staccato under his ribs. It should not affect him this much – having her so close. But it _did_. They weren’t in the open field with their friends around them. They were alone. In their own room. With their own bed.

Caleb gingerly laid back against the pillows, his shoulder fitting snug against Jester’s, and he opened his spellbook onto his lap. His fingertips traced patterns in the air, a trail of magic sizzling and sparking like static through his veins.

After several, comfortable and quiet moments, Caleb spoke: “What are you drawing?”

“Oh, you know…” Her pencil scratched across the page, “Just some cute little bumblebees.”

Caleb felt himself smile. It was easier in this space that they had carved out for themselves. No one’s eyes were on him.

“No dicks?” He glanced over at the book. Sure enough – two little bumblebees smiled up at him.

She turned to him, finding their faces hardly a few inches apart, “Not in _this_ drawing, but I’ve got this whole page left.” The words wafted against his lips, her breath warm and tingling across his skin. Caleb swallowed thickly and whipped his head back forward, focusing on his spellbook –

“They are very cute bumblebees.” He said, blinking and re-reading the arcane symbols on the page.

Jester hummed in agreement beside him. As the natural light from their window began to fade, Caleb flicked his wrist, and two globes of light appeared beside their heads. Another hour passed before he felt something heavy fall against his shoulder.

He looked down to see Jester’s head on him. Another smile found its way onto his face. Caleb closed his book and carefully slid it beneath his pillow with his journal. It was hard to maneuver without jostling her, but he did his best. Another movement of his hand and wrist and the lights vanished.

Caleb stared out into the darkness. The vague outlines of furniture coming into focus the longer he stayed there, listening to Jester’s breathing, and hearing the steady thump of his heartbeat. So, it was felt, rather than _seen_ when another weight draped itself across his stomach. Jester shifted beside him, her hair tickling his chin, as she curled closer to him.

“J—” He stopped himself before her name could leave his lips. What would be the purpose of waking her? The bed was already cramped when they were merely sitting side by side. Asking Jester to move would be pointless. He would just not move. That’s all. He could keep his mind busy until sunrise. It would be just like taking watch. Caleb thought of the spell he was working on. Tried to visualize it inside his mind and work with the components he had. They would need to find a store to get incense so he could bring Frumpkin back. That would be priority number one.

Jester moved again and her thigh slid across his. The careful equations in his mind shattered. Refocus. Regain composure. Jester muttered something in her sleep. He inhaled deeply and could smell sunshine and lemongrass and lavender and sugar. His eyelids fluttered. _Oh, damn it all._

If he shut his eyes for one moment – it wouldn’t do any harm. The weight and warmth of Jester enveloping him was impossible to resist. It was like a heady, intoxicating comfort that was lulling him into a place of pure contentment. It reminded him of sitting in front of the fire after playing outside in the snow. The gradual feeling of life returning to numbed fingers and toes and wind burnt cheeks.

As his consciousness began to slip away from his mind into the world of dreams, Caleb felt his arm move and drift across his body. His palm settling between Jester’s shoulder blades. His body pitched, turned to his side, and surrendered to blissful comfort.

Jester let out a soft, sweet sigh and nuzzled her face to his chest.

That was the last thing he recalled before he dropped away into the world of dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things happen in Critical Role and my only option is to put on my clown make up and write fanfic


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